Let her go, oh bless her
He's been to too many funerals. Visited Arlington more times than he can count, finding friends, brothers, comrades. Everything.
He's been to his own comedic funeral, where it was followed by drinks with ghosts, friends who too, had empty boxes in the ground, only to be magically resurrected. There was always some magic cure to some magical ailment. Resurrection skills that would make Jesus scratch his head at the audacity of it all.
Death had no dominion in the 616, Wade once said. Whatever that meant.
Each one's felt different. This one, he can't attend. He can't attend because a ghost can't be solid, holding a black umbrella and listening to memories, or throwing flowers into a grave.
He can't say goodbye to Snow White, or kiss her awake because he isn't alive to.
He always thought he'd be first. He was, almost. If she wasn't as stubborn as him.
That'd be fine, death collecting a tax long overdue.
But God, not her.
Not her.
It was a rainy day, humid enough to watch the dew lift itself from the grass, but he felt cold. He felt like someone had buried his soul inside that casket, sealed up so at least it could be near her.
He felt like he was as dead as his tombstone implied. Nothing made sense at this moment, and he wanted to break every object around him.
His Mother would hit him, but he didn't believe in a God now. Some higher being wouldn't take her. Not her.
The crowd dispersed, Sam staying behind to stay lookout for Bucky.
He waited another 5 minutesthatfeltlike10years minutes, before Sam called out "Go ahead."
He walked over, wearing the suit he'd worn on their last date.
Sam said nothing, because there wasn't a damn thing he'd hear. He just hung his head, putting his hand on his shoulder.
Her stone was simple. "Natasha Romanoff
They shall have stars at elbow and foot;
Though they go mad they shall be sane,
Though they sink through the sea they shall rise again;
Though lovers be lost love shall not;
And death shall have no dominion. "
Sam spoke, cracking the silence. "I'm sorry."
He kneeled, fighting the urge his body had to just sit there until vines grew about him, and let loose the tears he's been holding in since Steve told him. He set down the roses he bought, though it wasn't beautiful enough. The cashier smiled when he bought them from the florist. "Special day?" She said innocently.
"[I'm sorry I wasn't there this time.]" His tears finally fell with the rain, all the memories he'd been holding with him, falling into the damp ground. "I'm sorry."